


Ignite

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Disasters, Drama, F/M, Fire, Non-Linear Narrative, Team, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They can't all escape this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wayne Rigsby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Peg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Peg/gifts).



> Written for the Paint It Red April 2013 Monthly Challenge.

In just thirty minutes, a whole building could be destroyed by fire. This was a fact that Wayne Rigsby knew intimately and that was all he could think of as he watched the flames flickering from the roof of the CBI headquarters. He hated the fact that such a building was being destroyed and there was very little he could do about it. Then, there were all their resources, the case files, the data, expensive machinery. So much work had gone into making the CBI what it was and it was being lost before their very eyes. He didn’t even want to imagine the cost that would be incurred by the time that this was over. It could potentially not only destroy the building, but the California Bureau of Investigation itself. He shuddered; Rigsby loved the job and he loved his co-workers. He hated to think that everyone would lose everything because of this.   
   
Thankfully, everyone had gotten out unscathed. The quick head count had indicated there would be no loss of life and that was something that Rigsby was infinitely grateful for. As heartbreaking as it was to see the institution he loved being destroyed before his eyes, it would have been so much worse if somebody had died as well. If anything, he would have gone as far as blaming himself for it. After all, he was the arson expert. He was the one who should have known that something like this could have happened eventually. A shrink would have explained it away as being survivor’s guilt, or the like, but Rigsby would have felt differently, all because fire was his specialty. But, that was irrelevant. Everyone was fine. The only loss was going to be of the building itself. Therefore, it was entirely possible that the CBI could be rebuilt – as an institution of people and the building itself – at a later date.  
   
"Jane's not here," Lisbon said and then she repeated it, louder. "The _idiot_ , he's gone back inside."

Rigsby’s blood ran cold. Just as he was consoling his fact that nobody’s life was at risk, the boss had just informed him otherwise. He turned to face her and could see the sheer panic written across her features. It was understandable; she was the one who was closest to Jane. If he died, everyone in the team would react badly, but she would be utterly destroyed. They all knew Jane was her personal project, that she needed him almost as much as he needed her. If one lost the other, well, the very thought was almost inconceivable.

In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. Instead of looking on lamely as they waited for the firefighters to finally arrive to dowse the flames, a tragic incident had turned into an emergency.

It didn’t take much for Rigsby to realize why Jane had gone back in. The Red John case files may have been imprinted in Jane’s brain (or, so it appeared at the very least), but it didn’t stop him from needing the physical object. Red John was still at large and Rigsby knew that Jane wouldn’t be content until the man was dead. In Jane’s mind, the case files were worth risking his life over. After all, they provided tantalizing clues that could get him closer to his vengeance. However much they had tried to prove to Jane that he had a life beyond Red John, it was still obvious that he was more than willing to sacrifice his life to the cause.

Lisbon took a couple of steps closer to the building and Rigsby knew what she was doing. Instinctively, he caught her by the wrist to stop and she turned around to give him a filthy glare. She wasn’t happy and had immediately reverted to ‘reckless hero’ mode. There was a reason she was the boss, but that didn’t mean she always had to risk her life to save other people. They all knew just how important she was.

“Let go, Rigsby,” she snarled, but he didn’t jump. He was used to her fierce reputation by now. “I _have_ to save him.”

“And risk your own life in the process? I’m not so sure, boss.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand free. He knew he had no chance of persuading her otherwise; once she had resolved to do something that was it. Briefly, Rigsby spared a glance at Van Pelt and then Cho. The redhead was horrified; her hand had flown to her mouth in shock. The ambulance had been a lot quicker to the scene and Cho was already receiving treatment for some minor burns which he’d picked up upon discovery of the blaze. Despite that, he still managed to lock gazes with his closest friend for a brief moment. It was clear that he, meanwhile, disapproved of the situation but wasn’t going to make judgment any other way. Rigsby then knew what he had to do; as far as he was concerned, he literally had no other option.

“I’m coming with you,” he answered firmly.

“Wayne, no, I can’t ask you to do that. I can’t risk losing both of you to this fire.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m your boss-“

“And I’m disobeying orders. I’ve had training in these situations; you haven’t. Let me use my expertise to save you both. Please?”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat and Van Pelt rushed to his side. Without thinking, Rigsby turned to face her. He took her face gently in his hands, cupping each of her cheeks. Already, he could see the teardrops glistening in her eyelashes. She was scared; she didn’t think any of them were going to come out of this alive. They had been separated for years now, but he still loved her intensely. In reality, he’d never even stopped loving her. Almost as though he wasn’t under control, he leaned forwards, brushed his lips against hers and then deepened the kiss. Van Pelt moaned slightly and he held her tightly. Abruptly, he let go. Time was of the essence and Jane’s life was at stake. He could deal with the aftermath of kissing Van Pelt later; this wasn’t a farewell, it was a ‘see you later’. He, Jane and Lisbon would be fine. They had to be.

“You two have to stay here,” Rigsby instructed and Cho nodded slightly. “This is dangerous.”

“Be careful, Wayne,” Van Pelt murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hurried to catch up with Lisbon, who had already made her way to the left side of the building. The fire hadn’t spread there yet and thankfully, that meant that Jane should have been comparatively safe in his attic – or at least, in theory. Even so, it was still reckless and foolish of them to attempt this rescue mission. They didn’t have the right equipment and besides, Lisbon hadn’t had anything more than rudimentary fire safety training. But, she wasn’t willing to wait for the professionals, not when Jane’s life was at stake and he wasn’t willing to let her risk her life alone. Even so, every pore of Rigsby’s body was screaming out at him to stop. It had been drilled into him that he should never re-enter a burning building, but he ignored the screams stubbornly.

With a deep breath, he re-entered the building. Every second that he spent with Lisbon, he told her everything he knew about getting in and out of fires comparatively unscathed. He hadn’t informed her yet, but he was going to leave her, go fight the fire head-on and give her and Jane more of a chance to escape. Rigsby knew that she wouldn’t approve in the slightest, and that was why he hadn’t told her. After some careful navigation, they made it to the flight of stairs that led to Jane’s attic. The smoke was getting quite thick here, even if the actual fire hadn’t spread to this point yet. Crouching down low and covering his mouth, he turned to face Lisbon. He now had to drop the bombshell he’d been dreading onto her.

“You go up and find him. I’m gonna go tackle the blaze.”

“Rigsby-“

“Don’t argue with me, boss, we’re just wasting time that we could use to get out. Call me when you’ve got him, and just leave. Don’t take the elevator.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine,” Lisbon answered, relenting. “Good luck, Wayne and be careful.”

He nodded. “You too.”

Rigsby watched briefly as Lisbon carefully navigated her way up the staircase. He could only hope that they would get out safely now. All he could do now was keep trying to give them every chance to do so. He could already imagine the firefighters berating them for carrying out this rescue mission. But, they had been delayed – chronically understaffed and under resourced, it was entirely understandable, if infuriating – and every second counted if Jane was going to survive.

Armed with just a fire extinguisher, Rigsby briefly noted that the sprinklers had failed. That had only served to make his job all the more difficult. However, it didn’t take him long to discover the fire itself and he started spraying the white foam relentlessly. He was quietly proud of what he was achieving; he was definitely holding the fire back and preventing it from spreading. However, as much as he tried to focus, his vision was blurring as he inhaled the noxious gases. The foam was only serving to make the problem worse. Rigsby stumbled forwards; he had a task in mind and he refused to fail.  He got further and further away from the elevator and the staircase and glancing behind, it had already disappeared from his vision. The smoke was thick.

Eventually, he had to admit defeat; he was never going to have been able to put out the fire on his own. The intention had always been to delay the spread of it, anyway. Dropping down to his hands and knees, he started to crawl back in the direction of the escape. He was grateful that he knew the CBI headquarters like the back of his hand and that would make leaving easier. But, his muscles ached, his head was pounding and his eyes were stinging. His hair felt like it had been slicked back as sweat poured from every orifice; the scorching heat was becoming all the more apparent. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath; the oxygen supply was being quickly eaten up by the flames. Rigsby paused; his chest felt tight and it was getting harder and harder to move. Already, he had lost all sense of time and distance. He hoped he had given them enough time to get out; Jane and Lisbon had to survive. The fire itself wasn’t going to claim his life first and neither was the heat. The smoke was the obvious killer. But, he wasn’t trying to give up; he wanted to get out alive. He wanted to reunite with Van Pelt and he didn’t want to leave his precious son fatherless. The very thought was almost inconceivable.

Then, the muscles in his arms gave way and he collapsed to the floor. Everything hurt now, but he couldn’t regret the decision he had been made. Heatstroke, shock, loss of blood, and thermal decomposition of vital organs were all causes of death in a fire. The most common in a blaze this size, however, was carbon monoxide poisoning. Rigsby had known all this and still he had made the decision to re-enter, in order to save his friends. Even so, his last conscious thought was of his only child, Benjamin Rigsby, as he succumbed to the lure of death.


	2. Teresa Lisbon

The very first thing that Teresa Lisbon did was make sure that she found Jane. In spite of the fire alarms, and the general sense of frenzy and panic, she knew that he would try and evade her. There were things precious to all of them contained within the four walls of the CBI headquarters, but none more so than to Patrick Jane. She knew that his first instinct would be to fly off of his couch and upstairs into his attic. There, he would have grabbed everything that he could that pertained to Red John before making his way out of the building. The only problem with that theory was that fires spread quickly and if he didn’t make it out as soon as feasibly possible, then it was increasingly likely that he would lose his life to the inferno. She knew enough about fires to know that the whole place could be gutted in a matter of moments.

And behaving in such a foolhardy manner was no way to die. Rigsby could easily have told her all the exact information about deaths in fires, but all she could remember was something vague about carbon monoxide poisoning. She shuddered and kept a tight grip on Jane’s wrist. She had saved him enough times already to know that she would be more than happy to do it again and again. However, she wasn’t willing to take unnecessary risk, unlike him. He’d destroyed the case files for Red John once before – and nearly burned the CBI to a crisp as a consequence. They had been able to replace them then; they could easily do it again. But of course, he wouldn’t see it that way, because he was Patrick Jane and his mind worked differently to everybody else on the planet. Of course, she would never have had it any other way, but right now it would have been far easier if she knew he would behave reasonably.

Van Pelt lingered behind in the bullpen. Lisbon was partially annoyed, but she understood Van Pelt’s need to ensure that all stragglers were safely evacuated before leaving the building herself. Besides, she wasn’t in any position to argue, not while she was metaphorically manhandling Jane. She told her not to wait too long and Van Pelt promised she wouldn’t. Unlike Jane, she trusted the youngest member of her team to make the right decision.

The moment they were outside, in the fresh air, Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. Just because the fire hadn’t spread all that far when they had made their escape, it didn’t mean she couldn’t practically feel the urgency of the situation. After all, she’d seen the panic in Cho’s eyes the moment that he announced there was a fire in the building and that it most certainly not a drill. She had even briefly seen the scorch marks on his clothing before he’d fled outside. With a wry smile, she spotted him in the parking lot opposite the CBI headquarters. He was already waiting impatiently for the emergency services to arrive and appeared seemingly oblivious to his burn.

“You can let go of me now, Lisbon,” Jane pointed out as they slowly made their way to him. “We’re out of the building now; we’re not in any danger.”

Lisbon eyed him skeptically for half a moment and then relented, setting him free. “Don’t go back into the building, Jane. Everything in there is replaceable; you’re not.”

“What do you think I am, seven?”

She slapped him companionably on the arm. “No. But I know what you’re like.”

“I’m going to see if I can flag down any of the first responders,” Jane informed her quickly. “They must be here soon.”

She nodded, grateful and turned her attention to Cho. A throng of people were slowly amassing around her; the evacuation of the building was going to plan. It wasn’t long until Van Pelt and Rigsby joined them. Only then did she let out a shaky breath of relief; her team was fine. All she could do now was hope that all the other team leaders would be as lucky as she was. The CBI wasn’t defined by the building they made their headquarters, but by the people. Everything in there was inconsequential compared to human life.

The CBI would learn to adapt and grow. They could easily get over this loss; it wasn’t insurmountable.

Slowly, she turned on her heels; she could hear the distant sound of sirens flooding in on the place and that calmed her spirits. Cho wasn’t the only one to receive an injury during the escape. She’d seen one woman – a cleaner – hobbling, clearly suffering from a broken ankle. Then, there were others who must have had smoke inhalation, burns, general cuts and bruises. The sprinkler system had failed, hence why the fire had been a lot more dangerous than it should have been.

But, none of that was a concern. She had lost track of Jane. Carefully, she scanned the CBI staff and then the building, only to briefly glimpse him sneaking back into the main entrance. Then, she realized she’d made a fatal error. He’d lied to her, just like he always did. Lisbon knew that she should have known better than to take his words at face value.

Rigsby caught her eye for a moment. “The idiot,” she seethed, furious not just at him, but herself as well. “The _idiot_ , he’s gone back inside.”

She didn’t need to specify who. And in that moment she already made her decision: she was going in and she was going to drag his sorry ass back outside. The Red John case files were never worth losing his life over. They were replaceable, unlike some of the evidence in other cases that was getting destroyed at that very moment.

Lisbon wasn’t happy about Rigsby’s decision to join her; it was bad enough that she was risking her life over Jane. However, he had a son, somebody who depended on him for absolutely everything. There was no need for them to both go in. But, he was adamant and she knew that she wasn’t going to change his mind. Besides, arguing was a waste of precious time, as was the kiss he shared with Van Pelt – although she understood why he felt the necessity to do just that. Lisbon had been more than aware that the candle he held for Grace Van Pelt still burned brightly. All he needed was that moment of solace to steel his nerves, ready for what they were about to do.

Neither of them should have had to do this anyway, but there wasn’t a fire engine in sight. They had been delayed for one reason or another; the inevitable pithy excuses would be heard later. But, that was something she could worry about later. For now, she focused on one task and one task only: rescuing Jane. Their whole relationship was defined by saving one another, what difference did it make doing it again right now? Besides, she was a cop and she was used to precarious situations. It was her duty to uphold the law and save lives. And she knew that every fellow law enforcement officer felt exactly the same way as she did.

Mercifully, the fire hadn’t spread to the main entrance yet, although it was getting closer with each passing second. The smoke got increasingly thick the further into the building they got, and she grew more apprehensive. With every step, Rigsby reminded her about the best ways to get back out of fires; it was partially a reassurance, but it also made her feel like she was being foolish for behaving in this manner. But, the trained firefighters weren’t here to do their job and she wasn’t willing to waste any more time waiting for them to arrive.

When they reached the staircase up to Jane’s attic, the smoke was already getting thicker and it made her feel nervous. She was also unsurprised that she hadn’t seen any sight of the man. He was taking his sweet time in getting whatever he wanted out of there and it annoyed her thoroughly. Rigsby halted abruptly and by the look on his face, she could already tell that she wouldn’t like what he had to say next.

“You go up and find him. I’m gonna go tackle the blaze.”

“Rigsby-“

She knew exactly what he was insinuating. While she didn’t doubt his capabilities – he was her arson specialist – she knew that fires were unpredictable. He was happily stating that he was going to risk his life in order to increase her and Jane’s chances of getting out of this building unscathed. Rigsby had a son to be thinking of – and a potential future with Grace Van Pelt – but his self-sacrificing papa bear instinct had extended to caring about them. In the end, she gave up for a second time, and wished him luck. She didn’t need to thank him; some things simply went unspoken. Briefly, her fingers clasped around her cross necklace and she offered a silent prayer up for him.

Once he was out of sight, Lisbon came back to her senses and she made her way carefully up the staircase. The door to Jane’s attic space was tightly shut and she scowled. She knocked loudly three times and yelled his name loudly. A coughing fit soon followed, only subsiding when Jane eventually threw the door open. Her first instinct was to slap him hard across the face; the fury of being thrust into this situation had reached breaking point. Adrenalin was coursing through her system and she was desperate to get moving now. At least she had been right about his whereabouts; at least they hadn’t lost him for good.

“What the hell, Jane?” she coughed and glared at him. “Why the hell did you have to come back in here?”

“I needed to get something.”

“Everything in here is replaceable, you son of a-“

Lisbon stopped her tirade of abuse when he saw what he was holding. In one hand was a manila file – the one with photographs from every Red John crime scene – and the very sight of it made her feel irrationally angry.  But, in the other was a messy scrapbook that she didn’t recognize.

“My daughter and I started making this when she was three. It has postcards of all the places we visited together – and some of places we never got to go. This cannot be replaced.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and she meant it. That item had more sentimental value than anything else in the entire building. “But we’ve gotta get out now.”

“Let’s go to the roof.”

“No, downstairs,” she asserted, remembering what Rigsby had told her. “It’s too dangerous to go up; it’s too difficult for them to rescue us in a helicopter from up there. Besides, that’s assuming they bring helicopters.”

She didn’t take the moment to revel in the fact she knew something which Patrick Jane did not. Instead, she grabbed him by the wrist in much the same manner as she had earlier and dragged him down the staircase. The building was getting unbearably hot, and she hoped that Rigsby had already taken the initiative to get the hell out of there. She was beginning to feel dizzy because of the smoke inhalation by the time they got to the ground floor and in the end, Jane was the one to practically drag her out of there.

Medics rushed around; the time to berate her for acting so recklessly would come later, but for now she needed immediate medical attention. She willingly accepted the oxygen, already pliable to the EMT’s requests for her treatment. Somebody wrapped a plastic sheet around her and she relished in the cooler feeling around her body. Eventually, Jane came and set beside her and he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. The action took her by surprise, but she didn’t argue. She still couldn’t stop worrying about everyone else, even if she was willing to accept she needed help at this moment in time.

“Where’s Rigsby?” she asked, as Jane took her hands into his own. She couldn’t disguise the slight quiver in her voice.

Jane wasn’t able to meet her eye.


	3. Patrick Jane

“Come on, Jane, you’ve gotta get moving,” Van Pelt urged, but Jane merely stared into space.

He had never conceived that something like this could happen to the CBI headquarters; this was a place where he felt safe. Virtually everyone around him was panicking, rushing to the exits at breakneck speed, but he had frozen to the spot. It was almost his worst nightmare; he’d already had one family destroyed and now, fire was threatening to do the same to his new family, his new home. Jane hated to admit just how close he had gotten to the team; he had to remain aloof in order to be able to focus on catching and killing Red John. However, it was foolish for him to deny just how successful each and every one of them had been at crawling under his skin and creeping into his heart. Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt, they weren’t just his friends anymore; they were like his siblings too. He needed them to keep a grasp on his sense of reality and more importantly, sanity.

And then there was Teresa Lisbon…

She was striding towards him, and he could see his fear mirrored in her eyes. Van Pelt moved aside swiftly, turning her attention to other people in the bullpen that had regressed to a catatonic state. Somewhat roughly, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. After a brief exchange with Van Pelt, they headed towards the door. It was funny, how it was always Lisbon who could spur him into action. Not since his wife had somebody had quite the same effect on him, never mind for so long. Jane had half expected her to ensure that her team as a whole was safe, but her priority seemed to be him. Of course, he appreciated the fact – he always did – because he didn’t know what he would do without her.

Once they were finally outside, they headed towards Cho, who was waiting in the parking lot opposite the CBI headquarters. He had been the one to discover the fire, and had come away with minor injuries as a consequence. Jane hoped that EMTs would be on the scene soon, to treat his burns. As far as he was concerned, it was always the worst kind of injury to deal with. Briefly, Jane turned his attention to Lisbon and he could tell that she really wouldn’t be happy until she was certain that both Rigsby and Van Pelt were safe as well. He admired Van Pelt’s decision to try and shift the people who had been stunned by the shock of a legitimate fire threat. And he knew it wouldn’t be long until Rigsby was out either; if any member of the team truly understood the severity of the situation, it would be him. Jane also expected that he was the one who would ultimately work out what the cause of this fire was – and why the sprinkler system had failed – but for now, the evacuation was far more important.

But, as glad as he was that Lisbon was taking care of him, a wave of fear had taken over his body. There was something that he needed to get out of his attic, something which was priceless to him. The fire had started at the opposite end of the building and while fires spread fast, Jane knew that if he hurried, then he would have time to get back in there and retrieve it. The only problem was that he knew Lisbon just wouldn’t see sense – she’d probably believe he was after something relating to Red John – and would refuse point blank to let him do something as stupid as re-enter a burning building. Therefore, he needed to get away from her and slip back in and outside, unnoticed.

“You can let go of me now, Lisbon,” Jane stated quietly as they wound their way past the CBI employees who had already made their way outside and towards Cho. “We’re out of the building now; we’re not in any danger.”

“Don’t go back into the building, Jane. Everything in there is replaceable; you’re not,” she said seriously, but she finally let go of his wrist, much to his relief.

“What do you think I am, seven?” he joked.

She slapped him lightly on the arm, but he didn’t care. Jane knew that light violence was her way of showing affection to him. If she didn’t feel comfortable around him, then she wouldn’t have dared to do it. As a consequence, he wasn’t offended in the slightest; if anything, he quite liked it. Besides, it didn’t hurt at all, and that was how he could tell what she meant by it.

“I’m going to see if I can flag down any of the first responders,” Jane informed her quickly. “They must be here soon."

Lisbon believed the lie in an instant, and immediately turned her attention back to Cho. Jane only felt momentarily guilty for deceiving her.  Besides, she had known him for more than long enough to know exactly what he was like; lying was behavior she expected from him. He quickly put her from his mind; she was a distraction from the task in hand. Carefully, he made his way back to the headquarters. The fire immediately seemed far more ferocious now that he was back up close, but Jane was still more than convinced that this was a risk he was willing to take. He cursed his inability to move earlier; it had certainly made things that little more difficult. If he had thought properly, he would have been able to go and get what he was looking for before Lisbon had found him sitting on the couch instead of leaving the building. However, he couldn’t change the past, but it was still possible to do what he needed to do. All he had to do was find a little courage.

Steeling himself, Jane took one last glance around the crowd. He was almost certain that everybody who had been in the building had been evacuated now. When he could see that nobody was looking, he slipped inside. The air was still clear, but he could tell that the fire was spreading quickly. That meant he didn’t have much time, maybe five minutes or so, but that was going to be enough for what he needed to do. Immediately, he darted up several staircases and straight to his attic. There was no point in him delaying any more than he needed to; Jane knew that he had already wasted far too much time as it was.

Within approximately forty-five seconds, he was already in front of the door and unlocking the padlock. His chest felt tight; he wasn’t used to that kind of physical exertion and he made a mental note to do something about it. It wasn’t that he was unfit – he did exercise on occasion – but he could tell it would be worth putting that little more effort into maintaining his health. After all, he wasn’t getting any younger. And, if he wasn’t quick about this, there was every possibility that he wasn’t going to get any older either. However, it was hard to know where to start. He cast his eyes around the small room, and was stunned by what he saw. It was so unlike him to be so disorganized and to leave things in such a mess.

Ordinarily, Jane would have known exactly where everything was thanks to his impeccable memory palace. However, he’d been engrossed in the Red John case lately; a few recent leads and realizations meant that his small attic space had become overrun with mess. Papers, photographs, old case files, maps, everything was strewn across the floor. And soon, it would all go up in smoke. But he had to find what he was looking for; he couldn’t let this one thing get destroyed in the same way that everything else would be. He didn’t intend to be in here for long, but he knew that the fire was restricted enough just to give him time to look. That was why he had given Lisbon the slip. Jane could imagine just how furious she was, but then, she wouldn’t understand his sentiment.

He grabbed hold of a file on Red John and shoved it underneath his arm for safekeeping as he rummaged amongst the detritus. The smoke was beginning to make its way into his attic and he knew that he was running out of time. If he wanted to get out of here alive, he had to find what he was looking for soon or find a way to accept that it was lost forever. However, the very idea of the latter made him feel sick to the stomach. He’d promised her that he would look after it and he’d already let her down so many times; he just couldn’t do it again. Jane paused in his search for a second; the smoke triggered a small coughing fit, but it wasn’t enough to distract him for too long. Eventually, his fingers brushed against a familiar hard surface and he smiled. Digging out the large scrapbook, he breathed out a sigh of relief. It was one of the very few remaining links he had to his precious daughter and it meant so much to him. It had been their pet project, their thing. Charlotte adored it and Angela kept out of the way; she knew it was a daddy-daughter thing and she didn’t want to interfere with their bonding. Jane held it close to his face and inhaled deeply. Sometimes, he liked to imagine that her smell – strawberries and cream, chocolate, and freshly laundered clothes – still lingered on it. Deep down, he knew that it was his imagination, but he just didn’t care.

Suddenly, he started to cough again, and more violently this time around. He didn’t regret his decision in the slightest, but he wished he had been a little quicker in finding the scrapbook. Now, he realized just how foolish and reckless he’d been. Jane was used to facing dangerous situations, but everyone knew that you just didn’t run back into a burning building. And yet, he’d done just that. But as detailed and vivid as his memory palace was, he still needed physical reminders of his family to ensure they still felt close to him. That was why he had taken this scrapbook out of his daughter’s very pink bedroom in Malibu and brought it here. It may have been small, but it held so many irreplaceable memories. It had so much sentimental value.

There was a loud knock at the door and he soon heard a very familiar voice calling his name. A rush of guilt washed over him; nobody was meant to follow him inside. Teresa Lisbon wasn’t meant to risk their life for him, at least not in this situation. And yet, he didn’t know why he hadn’t expected her to do anything less. It was simply ingrained into the both of them. If she needed saving, he was there in a heartbeat. And he had long since lost count of the number of times she had saved his life in return, both literally and metaphorically.

He finally managed to open the door to greet her, to promise that he would make his way out the building – and make sure she got out comparatively unscathed too. However, the first thing he was met with was the palm of her hand smacking hard, across his left cheek. Jane knew that he deserved it but still, they couldn’t waste any more time. They had to get out of the CBI headquarters before it crumbled down around them – or they succumbed to the blaze, whichever came first.


	4. Grace Van Pelt

The first sign that something untoward was happening was, of course, the sound of the fire bell blaring out. A couple of people rolled their eyes, assuming it was merely a drill or a false alarm and carried on with their business. After all, the sprinkler system hadn’t started to work, so that meant it was probably fine. Grace Van Pelt, meanwhile, frowned at their cynicism and got to her feet. Something _felt_ wrong, and she wasn’t quite sure what. Quickly, she shot Rigsby a look and he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. She was glad to see that he, at least, had gotten to his feet even if Jane was still sitting at his couch and sipping at his Earl Grey tea.

Briefly, she took a couple of steps out and into the corridor so that she could get a clear view of Lisbon’s office. Her boss, too, had gotten to her feet and was grabbing her jacket. Van Pelt took that as a sign to move; if Teresa Lisbon was concerned enough to make steps to leave, then so should she. Mentally, she told herself that it could still be a drill; Lisbon would probably say something about the fact they should react as if there were a real fire regardless. After all, you never knew when something disastrous could happen, so it was better to be cautious. That was her argument for any sort of training, so this, obviously, was no different.

Then she heard the thundering echo of distant footprints. They got louder and louder until Cho almost ran into her. She knew that he had been downstairs, into the underground parking lot. Before he’d left, he’d muttered something about leaving some paperwork in the SUV and thus, Van Pelt had thought nothing of it. But then, he yelled out ‘fire!’ at the top of his voice and that was when the dread really started to creep in. She had never seen him look so panicked in her entire time with the CBI. Kimball Cho was famed for keeping his cool, with working well under pressure. If he was freaking out, then there really was something to worry about. And so, it seemed, that the vast majority of her co-workers agreed with her sentiment. Chaos promptly ensued, with people running in every direction, not even giving time to think about their fellow co-workers. Everybody simply wanted to get out – except for the few people who had gone into a state of shock – they just couldn’t comprehend what was going on. Patrick Jane, surprisingly, was amongst that number.

Cho had already disappeared and Van Pelt couldn’t blame him for that. From the brief interaction, she had seen the burns to his shirt and pants and wouldn’t have been surprised if he had picked up an injury. She shuddered; burn pain was the absolute worst. Van Pelt could remember distinctly about the time when she had learned the stove was hot and she still had a small scar on her elbow to prove it. But for now, that was all irrelevant. What she had to do was get these people out of the building as fast as feasibly possible. She didn’t want any one of them losing their life to something like a fire. The building was replaceable; she had faith that the CBI would be able to come back bigger and better from this. But while there was a risk that the fire couldn’t be contained, every single one of her colleagues’ lives was at risk.

The first thing she did was head towards Jane. Normally, he was the first to react in such a situation, but then it also wasn’t unheard of for him to cower in fear. Despite the fact he had killed a man – a dangerous criminal, albeit not Red John, Van Pelt firmly reminded herself – he often still cowered in fear at the sound of a gunshot. Besides, he never coped well with loss. The fact that he was still chasing his family’s killer was evidence enough of that. Van Pelt knew that Jane had found some sort of stability within the CBI and that he even considered them to be a second family of sorts. The very idea of potentially losing a place and people he had fallen in love with, after the devastating loss of his wife and child was probably too hard for him to even dare to comprehend.

“Come on, Jane, you’ve gotta get moving,” she pleaded, but Jane continued to merely stare vacantly out into space.

She turned on her heels, desperate and was revealed to see that Lisbon hadn’t left yet. “Boss,” she called.

“Van Pelt, you should follow Rigsby’s lead and go. I’ll handle Jane,” Lisbon said. She sounded as confident and professional as ever, but there was an obvious hint of fear that was un-disguisable. They all felt that.

In response, she did half a nod, but then cast her eyes around the room. There were still a couple of other people beyond Jane who hadn’t found the ability to move yet, in spite of the alarm, in spite of Cho’s calling and in spite of the panic. And then, she knew that Caoimhe – her old school friend who worked with ballistics - had disappeared into the restroom, feeling ill – shortly before the alarm began. She had to check that she got out okay; she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if something happened to Caoimhe. After all, Van Pelt had been the one to give her a tip when the CBI started hiring again. She wouldn’t have been here at all, would have gone back to Iowa, if it hadn’t been for her.

She explained as quickly and concisely as possible to Lisbon and her boss, although concerned about the risk she was taking, accepted that it was something she needed to do. Van Pelt was relieved when she saw that Lisbon had managed to get Jane out of his stupor, had already dragged him to his feet, but then she stopped thinking about it. She had more important things to worry about; she hadn’t lost her senses due to fear, but several other people _had_.

Quickly, Van Pelt scouted round the bullpen. A woman she didn’t recognize – a witness for another case that the Serious Crimes Unit wasn’t involved in, she figured – was cowering in the corner. She urged her towards the exit, and it was only after a few brief comforting words from her that the woman felt capable of moving. Then, Van Pelt moved onto Ron, who was still studying his computer screen, as if that would be able to keep him alive through the fury of a fire. She tapped him on the shoulder, calmly lied through her teeth, informing him it was a drill and that Lisbon was expecting him outside immediately. That was enough to get him to move and make his way out of the building in a sensible manner. Finally, there was the Hispanic cleaner who had only recently been hired, who was trying desperately to gather together as many of his resources together. Taking the objects out of his hand and placing them back on the trolley, she reminded him how he was meant to react to a fire alarm and then, after nodding his head submissively, he followed Ron towards the exits.

A few wisps of smoke had already infiltrated the bullpen and Van Pelt shuddered. The fire was getting bad; she had hoped that she would have more time than this. Soon enough though, she was by Caoimhe’s side and was instantly concerned when she saw her friend vomiting violently.

“Caoimhe,” she spoke, loudly enough to be heard over the din, but quietly enough to be soothing. “We need to get out.”

“I’m tired, Gracie. I have been for weeks.”

“You can tell me later,” she assured her and placed an arm tightly around her waist. “But for now, we need to get out. It’s not a drill.”

Stumbling slightly, she guided her friend down the staircases. Rigsby had taught her so much about fire safety, and naturally, it had all sunk in. As much as she would have preferred to take the elevator down, both for her sake and Caoimhe’s, it was far too dangerous. Van Pelt breathed a sigh of relief when the exit was finally in sight and she could feel renewed strength in her bones.

“I’m pregnant, Gracie,” Caoimhe whispered suddenly at the same time as she saw the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

Van Pelt bit down the urge to congratulate her enthusiastically; there was still work to be done. In the end, she didn’t get a chance to say the words at all. Instead, she merely returned Caoimhe into the loving embrace of her wife. Van Pelt was thrilled that they had finally been able to find the right sperm donor for them. Both women were going to be great moms. But, she wanted to see her team, find out what was happening and reassure her boss that she – and Caoimhe - had got out okay.

Everyone but Jane had huddled around together. That didn’t concern Van Pelt too much; Jane was prone to wandering off. Just so long as he hadn’t wandered straight back inside, it didn’t matter. She hadn’t past him on her way to the team, so she figured it was probably okay. That was until she glanced at the main entrance to the CBI headquarters and saw a splash of navy blue pinstripes disappear back in. Her eyes briefly caught with Lisbon’s and she could tell her boss was thinking exactly the same thing: Jane had decided to be utterly foolish and go back inside. If this was something to do with Red John, Van Pelt made a mental note to strangle him. Red John wasn’t worth risking his life over; they all told him that, but it never seemed to sink in.

Her heart started to pound when she listened to a heated conversation between Lisbon and Rigsby. When she began to understand the ramifications of what they were saying, she felt sick to her stomach. Both of them were more than willing to risk their lives to save Jane, but she would never have expected anything less of either of them. Even so, Jane’s idiocy had made things worse. If something happened to one of them, then she honestly believed she would never forgive him for it. Not only was his life going to be in danger, but theirs too – and damn it, she could see smoke coming from the roof and flames licking the bottom of the building now. That was never going to be a good sign.

“Wayne,” she breathed and he turned around to face her.

She felt his calloused hands gently brush across her cheeks and the feeling of electricity jolted through her body, just like it had done every single time he’d done this to her in the past. It felt like forever had passed since their relationship had ended, and at the same time, no time at all. But this, it was something she missed, the way his lips gently brushed against hers and his tongue dampened her lips. She always loved it when he pulled her in close, almost enveloping her entire body with his. It made her feel safe and loved. When he deepened the kiss, she responded obligingly; how could she not? She had always been convinced that love would eventually find away. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to be the trigger for them to start working as one again.

But first, he had more important things to do.

“Be careful, Wayne,” Van Pelt murmured, acquiescing to his request that she remained safe, with Cho. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The words warmed her from the very pit of her stomach. It had been far too long since she had heard his warm voice direct those words to her. Even so, as she watched him disappear back into the building with Lisbon, she couldn’t help but say a little more.

“Please come back to me, Wayne. I need you.”


	5. Kimball Cho

Kimball Cho stared at his computer screen aimlessly. It was one of those days; nothing was happening, the team was bored and even Jane couldn't brighten the spirits of everyone else by doing something a little bit crazy. There were times when Cho craved these sorts of days; at least then, it gave them a break from the daily insanity that working with somebody like Jane supplied. However, that didn't change the fact that the team was filled with highly strung individuals who needed mental stimulation. Even Rigsby, though he didn't appear to be the sharpest tool in the box, was a deeply loyal and intelligent person, and needed something to sink his teeth into otherwise he got fed up. Cho sighed; he knew that if something didn't happen soon that they would all start snapping each other, then Lisbon would get angrier and everything would get worse. It was bad to think that he wanted somebody to die, just so the team had something to do, but that was the nature of being a homicide detective. He simply couldn't expect anything less.

As if somebody had been able to read his thoughts, his cellphone started to ring. Cho's lips curled into a very slight smile - one which was only perceptible to people that really knew him and he promptly answered the call. He knew that the change in dynamic had piqued the interest of the others; he could feel three sets of eyes boring into him as he pressed the device to his ear. But that was only to be expected; they were probably hoping that it was a new case, something for them all to get moving on. However, this call only involved him and Cho knew that they would be disappointed when they realized that. Even so, Cho had been hoping that the Rapid Response Team would have some more work for him to do soon. He enjoyed the change of pace that it offered him and the fact it required different demands to homicide investigations. It all made him more well-rounded as a cop, and that was something he liked. As a consequence, he'd been thrilled to see Agent Tamsin Wade's name pop up on the screen of his phone. That, at least, meant that he got some action and was able to get out of the stuffy office and away from Rigsby shooting doleful expressions at Van Pelt for the rest of the day.

What he was less happy about was the reason the Rapid Response Team had been called in. According to Agent Wade, there had been a drugs bust involving one of the local gangs and his heart sank when she confirmed that it was the Avon Park Playboys. Whenever Cho believed he was able to truly put his past behind him, it seemed like they always liked to rear their ugly heads once more. In truth, however much he had changed since his days as a gangbanger, Cho knew that he would never truly be able to escape it. He was branded, marked, tainted by the decisions that a foolish and naive teenager had once made. He had already lost count of the number of times he had been passed over for promotion, how many opportunities had slipped through his fingers because he had once been in a gang. Cho couldn't be ashamed of the decisions he'd made - and he was proud of how he had gotten his life back on track - but that didn't mean that everyone else had lost their skepticism about where he'd come from and what he'd done. They were suspicious about what was lying underneath his finely honed stoic exterior, and for good reason. Cho knew that he still had to be careful how he acted, because there were times when it was all too tempting to give into the darkness laying just underneath the surface. At least Lisbon and Agent Wade had some faith in him; that was something he was grateful for.

That didn't stop Wade from asking him some uncomfortable questions before consenting to his participation however. Cho felt like he was being scrutinized over the phone by her, her judging his every past misdemeanor. He knew that she must have spoken to Lisbon about his history at some point, but he couldn't help but think she was looking at him through a different set of eyes now that his past had been colored in a little more for her. But this was something he was used to, and he was glad that Wade was sensible enough to know that Cho's prior involvement with the Playboys wouldn't affect his ability as a cop, but might even be a useful asset for the Rapid Response Unit to use during this specific bust.

After bidding farewell to Wade, he quickly downed the rest of his lukewarm coffee, collected up his belongings - wallet, phone, Taser, badge, handcuffs and gun - before heading towards Lisbon's office. As he'd gone about his routine of clearing his desk, Cho endured the relentless questioning - and ensuing disappointment - from Rigsby, Van Pelt and Jane when they realized what he was off to do. But he couldn't help the fact that nobody was killing each other and if anything, they should be grateful for a quiet spell. It was good when homicide detectives were bored; it meant that people weren't doing abhorrent things to one another. Lisbon was hard at work when he promptly knocked three times; sometimes, Cho found himself wondering how and why she always had so much to do, even when the rest of the team did not, but deep down he knew that it was because she was a control freak. She wasn't keen on delegating if she knew she could cope; it was only during cases when she was happier to relinquish control because she physically wasn't capable of chasing down each and every lead on her own.

"Boss," he said and she smiled wryly in response.

"It's not a case, is it?" she asked and Cho shook his head. Sometimes, he wondered if Jane was rubbing off on her a little too much for comfort. But then, she probably just thought it was a way of improving her own skills, and he still respected her deeply. He wasn't going to judge.  Besides, in some respects she was right: it did improve her skills. All he could do was hope that it didn’t cost her too much of her soul in the process. He knew all too well what that was like from very personal experience.  "Agent Wade wants you for a bust?" she questioned.

"Did she call you?"

"No. If we had a case, you'd have told me from the doorframe," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't have anything to do here; I'm sure we can spare you for a while."

He nodded his thanks and headed back out of the office. There was still half an hour until Wade was expecting him and besides, he still had a little preparation of his own to take care of first. First things first, he had to get a couple of things out of his car. While on the job, he used one of the state-issue SUVs. First thing every morning, he parked his car safely away in the parking lot underneath the CBI headquarters. Cho decided to forgo the elevator down, and instead took relish in making his way down the staircase.

The moment he set foot on the concrete floor, he heard voices and he frowned. Carefully, Cho moved his hand closer to his holster, making sure he was fully prepared to draw his gun, in case he needed it. With swift professionalism, his eyes were drawn to the open vents at the top of the walls; he could tell that the voices weren’t coming from inside. These people – these unwelcome visitors – definitely weren’t here for good. Cho couldn’t help but think of their sheer audacity; who would seriously consider approaching a building stuffed full of cops with malcontent in their minds? It was just stupid. Besides, it was well known that nobody got away with attacking law enforcement; if they were here to do damage, or worse, then they would come down on them hard.

But then, he heard a distinctly familiar voice and it chilled him to the bone for half a second.

KS, leader of the Avon Park Playboys, was here. And if anyone was willing to do something as reckless as attack the CBI headquarters, it was him.

Which meant, Tamsin Wade’s information on the Playboys was either misinformed, a deliberate red herring or simply wrong.

Immediately, Cho found himself theorizing exactly why KS had decided to take this kind of action. Was it because Wade had discovered the gang was dabbling in drugs trafficking and preparing to take them down? Had he decided to react before they had a chance to get to that stage? Did he believe the Rapid Response Unit had already left, and thus, the building was (comparatively) unarmed?

Or was this more personal? Had KS been planning an attack on the CBI ever since he got the CBI involved in the David Seung murder case? Was it because he wanted payback for Cho shooting him all those years ago? Or was it just because he finally wanted to prove to Cho that you could never truly leave the Playboys, even if you thought you had? Back then, even when he’d first left, Cho knew the deal: to leave, you died. He was the only person, thus far, who had managed to break that tradition and Cho knew what KS was like. This had probably been stewing for years and now, what with Wade’s investigation, it had probably finally tipped him over the edge.

What Cho wasn’t prepared for was the sudden onslaught of a firebomb. It didn’t hit him directly, the flames skirted across his arm, sending shooting agony through his arm. He could already hear footsteps disappearing, and deep down he knew that KS wouldn’t be caught until after all of this was over. Not only did they have a suspect, but a key witness. But first, Cho had to get out of here, otherwise it would all go up in smoke, quite literally. The fire spread across the parking lot quickly; it was already beginning to take hold. There was no point in him rushing for a fire extinguisher and trying to tackle the blaze, not with his very recent injury. Besides, it would have been too foolhardy and reckless. Dealing with a fire was best left to the professionals, even as a cop, Cho could admit to that.

Besides, he had far more important things to worry about.

Somewhat ominously, the smoke that was already making the air in the underground parking lot toxic had failed to trigger any smoke alarms. People upstairs still knew nothing about this attack and he had to change that. The first thing he did was bolt back upstairs, smashing his fist into the nearest alarm panel as he did so. It took him less than half a minute to make it back up to the third floor. Once there, he nearly flattened Van Pelt and she looked incredibly disconcerted. Then again, she’d never seen him this panicked before so he couldn’t blame her for that.

But he had to save them, his coworkers, his _friends_. That was all he could think of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to make a note saying that I plotted - and wrote - most of this before the events at the Boston Marathon on 15th April. That is why I've held off finishing/posting it for a couple of days. My heart goes out to the victims and their families. But I just wanted that to be said and I'm sorry if anyone takes any offense to this story as a consequence.  
> \- tromana


End file.
